One Day I Will Learn Your Name
by AZ1087653
Summary: An introspective piece starring our favorite terrorist as he watches Miyagi in the library.


This little piece is dedicated to Risque Tendencies, who wanted an introspective piece starring our favorite terrorist as he watches Miyagi in the library.

I own nothing. Un-beta-ed

/GG/

One Day I Will Learn Your Name

In an age where libraries are quickly becoming a thing of the past while the Internet explodes with new information at the touch of a button, it's a surprising site to see a fourteen-year old boy sitting at a table reading a book. The library staff was always pleased when this young man came in to research because he was so cute to look at; it just melted the hearts of the old biddies behind the counters. If they knew what was going on in the wide-eyed youth's head they may have had other thoughts.

Said boy was actually starting to come more because he was taking notice of a certain older man who usually had a small entourage of younger women who came in to ogle at him as well. The boy wasn't actually ogling at him (yet) but the man had piqued his curiosity.

In the young man's mind he would wonder, who is that man, why does he always have a pile of the oldest books in existence, why does he look so happy to be in a library? The questions went on and on in his mind and he wanted nothing more than to have those questions answered. He'd never ask the man though; he was too embarrassed to be thought of as a stalker, even if the library was a public place.

On that particular day he was sitting directly across from the man, who had his face in a book that looked like it weighed a good fifty pounds. The pages were so brittle the youth was afraid they would crumble with the slightest touch. That never happened though because the man's long, slender fingers would delicately hold each page as if it were the most important thing in the world. The boy was immediately jealous of the man's wife, if he had one. The impure thought of being touched by those long fingers actually sent a shiver down his spine and it ended in an area of his anatomy he didn't want to think about in a public place, lest he need to relieve himself in the public bathroom.

He decided to think about something else for a few moments, but his mind wandered back to the man with all the musty books. He had dark hair and piercing eyes. The boy had never had a chance to lock eyes with the man, but he figured if he did it would have startled him to the point of no longer coming back for another look. He only knew the man's eyes were piercing because of the way he looked at the women who fawned over him. In the teenager's mind he was glad those women were turned down or he'd have more to be jealous over.

On that particular day the man with the books was wearing a pair of dress slacks of khaki color and a blue and white striped shirt. The buttons were white and the top two were unbuttoned, showing a little bit of the undershirt the man was wearing. It was a white color as well, though in the light of the library and the stripes on the shirt made it seem like a light blue color.

The student, who should have been studying his English, was actually studying the frequency in which the other was breathing. He could make out when the man breathed by the slight rise and fall of his chest. He would breathe in through his nose and then exhale through his mouth, which was slightly ajar. The boy wanted to reach over and feel those lips to learn the texture. Why he wanted to was beyond his comprehension.

For some reason he felt drawn to the man on the cellular level. His very being was being pulled toward this total stranger like a magnet to the door of a refrigerator. In order to get the weird thoughts out of his head the young man opened his book and turned to a list of words he needed to work on memorizing. One word stood out on the page of the English book in his site. The word FATE in big black letters jumped out at him and he knew. He just knew that word was going to be important at some point in his future.

Again he looked at the man sitting across from him. He'd changed positions and now cradled the book in his arms. What would it feel like to be cradled in those arms, he wondered. He's probably a very gentle person to the one he loves. This thought caused the youth to shake his head and slap his cheeks. He didn't want the other man to have a lover because he wanted to be that man's lover.

Okay, what!

Those words spilled into his brain like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He, a fourteen year old student in middle school, just said he wanted a man to be his lover. Not just any man, but a man who had to have been at least double his age, if not more.

No, no, no, no. He couldn't think that type of thought. It was wrong, it was immoral, it was…he saw the word in his English book again…FATE.

Slowly he took out his notebook and wrote one clean sentence on the first line of the first page. He tore the page from his book and folded it in half twice before placing it into his pocket. There was probably never going to be a chance to give the man with the books the words he wrote, but he would keep that paper until he could.

The boy stood up and went to put his book back before heading home. He took one more look at the man sitting at the table and sighed. Fate really had a funny way of playing with him. He left the library and started toward the subway.

In his pocket was the piece of notebook paper with the fateful words written in English: My name is Shinobu Takatsuki and one day I will learn your name.


End file.
